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Adrian Magson

Sunday, 28 June 2015

One of the more common questions
asked by writers starting out in this business is, ‘I’ve got a problem: with so
many ideas whirling around in my head, how do I settle on the right one?’

Call that a
problem? There are writers out there who’d give their granny’s right arm to be
so discombobulated! I’m rarely if ever short of an idea or several, although there
have been times when the only one I’ve had has been so lonely and miserable
I’ve had to take it out and shoot it, to put it out of my misery.

The nature of
ideas is that they come and go like last week’s news, rarely hanging about
unless you write them down as soon as they occur. (Note to self: practice what
you preach; last week I couldn’t be bothered to stir myself and reach out for my
notebook in the middle of the night, and an idea went walkabout. All I know is,
it was a belter. If it should float your way – grab it.)

The human brain
has a great capacity to be attracted to certain things over others. Laughter
over misery, comfort over cold, chip fat over limp lettuce… But the
subconscious works in ways we can’t explain – or, at least, I can’t. And
one thing I’ve found over the years of slaving over a hot keyboard is that
there’s a degree of natural selection at work in our heads. It makes sense,
therefore, to rely on that inner skill when deciding which direction or choice
to take.

What you might
need to do is give that internal selector a bit of a nudge now and then,
otherwise you’re expecting too much of it. The first thing is to organise your
ideas in a way that makes them instantly ‘grabbable’.

Picture if you
will, the mind of your average writer (and for this, I use my own as a model,
so don’t feel I’m talking about you). It’s pretty much like a
wheelie-bin - or, as my wife says - a compost heap. Full of all kinds of
rubbish, none of it is recycled and most of it is swirling around and fermenting
nicely. To make sense of this pile of festering flapdoodle, you need to sort
through it and arrange the good bits into recognisable ‘tags’, so that you can
pick them out at a glance.

This is where
the idea of the ‘elevator pitch’ from the film industry comes in handy, where a
scriptwriter has the length of time it takes to walk from the studio's front door to the elevator to pitch an idea
to a producer. It helps if it can be contained in a single line.

Thus, if one of
your ideas involves a small boy being abandoned in the jungle, where he is
brought up by wolves and befriended by a singing, feckless ape and preyed upon
by a nasty but clearly well-educated tiger, you could describe it as:

Small boy, jungle-reared, journeys from man-cub to
man-child. Would make a fantastic feature-film!

Okay, I cheated
with that last bit (and there’s not a writer alive who doesn’t fantasise about
getting a film deal). But I'm sure you get the idea.

Speaking
personally, trying to recognise my own ideas in any other way is far too
confusing without using this brief kind of tag. But it’s enough to remind me
what the idea is about without needing to look at all the detail or the notes I
might have made about sub-plots, characters, locations and so on.

Just like the
elevator pitch, it relies on a sketch, rather than the full picture. And
writing these single-liners down (on separate pieces of paper if you like, to
distance them further from each other) allows me to sort through them to see
what appeals.

However, don’t
rush it. What I do is allow the selection process to work by leaving the ideas
to one side for a few days, then going back and running my eye down the list.
Doing this, I inevitably find that one will suddenly look less attractive than
it once did, compared to the others. So I lose it; dump it back whence it came,
maybe saving it for another time.

This is where
the brain uses the interaction between the eye and the subconscious, drawing
you towards what appeals most, and away from the ideas that feel less worthy.

Repeat, as they
say in cookery books, until done, or until you find that the same idea keeps
floating steadily to the surface, or your eye keeps being pulled back to one
more than the others.

It’s at this
point that your writing really begins, because by this time, the creative part
of your subconscious will also have been chugging away quietly, giving your
initial idea more strands and directions to work on and expanding it into a
tangible storyline.

TOP TIPS

·Turn each of your scribbled ideas into a single,
brief sentence with just sufficient detail to make them recognisable.·Look at this list over several days. Prune away
any which do not instantly appeal.·By reducing the list, you are forced to
concentrate on a narrower range without wading through
too many distractions.·DON’T throw away your discarded ideas; one day you’ll
come back to them - I promise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Originally published in Writing Magazine, this article also appears in 'Write On! - The Writer's Help Book' - available in paperback and ebook:

Sunday, 21 June 2015

Continuing my occasional addition to the blog of previously published articles on writing for beginners. These have appeared in Writing Magazine - and in my book 'Write On! - The Writer's Help Book'. (see below).

Write outside the square

I was asked recently at a literary
bash what sort of writing I did. When I explained that I wrote various things,
ranging from articles to short stories to books – even radio comedy material
for a while – I received the kind of look you get when you accidentally step on
someone’s freshly seeded lawn.

It seems I had
somehow transgressed in the other person’s eyes, as if engaging in more than
one kind of writing was deeply sinful. My interlocutor, incidentally, claimed to
write ‘only serious material’, without revealing quite what that was.

However, it set
me thinking. What he clearly found so odd was that I couldn’t be slotted into a
convenient box marked ‘Short Story Writer’, ‘Poet’, ‘Feature Writer’ or
whatever. And it’s not the first time I’ve encountered this reaction.

Unless you like to work in a specific field, I don’t
see what’s wrong with ploughing a broad furrow. You may possess background
knowledge or experience which allows you to concentrate on a particular subject
area, which is fine. But most writers I know inevitably try a variety of
subjects or styles along the way, whether by accident, design or commission
(the latter being where you might get to eat once in a while).

Trying things
out.

Merely another way of flexing your writing muscles. And on the
simple basis that you never know what you can do until you try, there’s a good
argument for trying different forms of writing.

Of course, the
act of putting words on paper is common to all writing, but there are some
basic differences in the pursuit and practice between, say, writing a piece of
fiction and penning a magazine article. But they’re hardly insurmountable.

Fiction

AKA Making stuff up, gives you complete freedom to write what you wish. It’s your world, so as long
as your characters, setting and events are believable and acceptable to your
target market, anything goes. And most, if not all your creativity can take
place at your desk, the main tools being your mind and whatever information
sources you might have at hand.

Non-fiction

NOT making stuff up requires a slightly different approach, where accuracy is essential if you want
to gain and maintain credibility. Fail to state the correct facts (and there’s always
somebody out there who knows) and your writing will be questioned, usually with
fatal results for any future projects. Accumulating these facts requires
physical study, interviews or research into the subject in libraries, museums
or on the Internet.

However, we’re only varying our working practice
slightly, not re-inventing the wheel, and we try other forms of activity in
life, so why not with writing?

Sport

Most of us grow up
playing one or more forms of sport, be it football, hockey, baseball, swimming, etc. Most
of our choices are governed by background, education or simply the facilities
available. But just because we’ve always kicked a ball about, doesn’t mean it’s
the only thing we should do.

Many of us in
this country rarely see snow from one year’s end to the next (even as I write
this, I’ve a feeling I may regret it). But if we’re lucky enough to try winter
sports on holiday, we may discover an ability to ski with reasonable, even
consummate ease. Some of us who rarely go near water except to wash, find we
have a real and hitherto untapped affinity with the stuff when given a wetsuit,
flippers and sub-aqua equipment (okay, and tropical temperatures to go with
them!)

Both sports may
be very different forms of activity from our personal norm, yet we’re still
using the same basic equipment, albeit with the add-on of curved planks or
floppy shoes to help us along a bit.

Similarly,
writing is writing, whatever you are working on. And until you test yourself,
you may be unaware that you have the ability to do something you’d never
considered before.

Marshalling
Facts

Working on assembling a feature is excellent training for developing a control of detail
in a work of fiction. If your story is set in a real, identifiable town, for
example, it helps to ensure your description of roads, places and the general
layout is as accurate as possible, otherwise it will be spoiled for people who
know the place you’re writing about.

Creating
Scenes

(and I don't mean in public) from nothing is essential when writing non-fiction. The topic may be
factual, even dry, but it still needs to be an entertaining read. And the
creative use of words you employ in writing fiction can help you lift the page
from being a listing of facts and figures into something enjoyable.

So, unless you
wish to stick rigidly to one genre, it might pay to consider others. Changing
projects every now and then is a useful way of refreshing your work and giving
yourself a break. And writing something outside your normal comfort zone might
help spread your talents to other, equally rewarding fields.

More than
anything, though, next time anyone asks what you do, you can tell them quite
simply and positively.

You’re a writer.
End of story.

TOP TIPS

·Trying different writing styles is like flexing
different muscles.

·You already possess the equipment – try using it
for different tasks.

·Refuse to be pigeonholed.

·You never know what you can do until you try.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'Write On! - The Writer's Help Book' - available in paperback and ebook

Saturday, 13 June 2015

'The hardest, most challenging thing for many writers is to
start writing. The next is to keep going.'

Having learned this the hard way over many years writing short fiction, features, books and a whole lot of other things (t-shirt slogans, greetings cards, radio comedy, a play and even poetry) I was delighted to be asked to share some of the other lessons I picked up as a writer. These became a monthly column called 'Beginners' in WritingMagazine - an excellent print and online magazine and facility (and meeting place) for writers of all kinds and levels, starters and professionals.

That was (to my great surprise, checking back) all of 12 years ago!

Since then, many of the pages of 'Beginners', were, with the kind permission of the editor, morphed into a book called 'Write On! - The Writers' Help Book' now available in print and ebook (see below).

But it recently struck me that along with the current column and the book collection of previous ones, both of which include a heap of Top Tips, it wouldn't hurt to share some of my suggestions and advice with new writers on an occasional basis via this blog .

So, here's the first one I put into the book, starting with the chapter header:

There is no easy way to start
writing. You can’t creep up on it stealthily and take it by surprise; nor can
you sit and wait for it to happen like an attack of measles.You just have to
decide what you want to write … then write.

A bit like walking, really. Only
you’re leaning over a keyboard.

Breath out. Flex
the fingers … now let the ideas flow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where do I begin?

I now know how my father used to
feel when my brother or I, on being given some information he undoubtedly
thought would help us develop into mature and rounded characters, would
promptly come back with, ‘Why’s that, dad, why?’ This, bear in mind, was
at the tender age between ‘The Beano’ comic and more ‘serious’ reading,
where a boy’s idle curiosity usually outstrips his willingness to go off and
find out something for himself.

This revelatory
moment came about for me after a gentleman approached me at a conference
recently and announced: ‘I’ve never written anything in my life, but I’ve
always wanted to write a book. Trouble is, I don’t know what I want to write.’

‘Okaaay,’ I
said, not sure where this was leading. Then he hit me with the BIG one, the
equivalent to the ‘Why, dad…?’.

‘So where do I
start?’

My initial
thought was that he would find it easier to put together a nuclear power station
(at least there are diagrams available for building your own version of
Sellafield, and most DIY stores seem to stock everything required by a budding
power freak). But, a serious question requires a proper answer – and he couldn't be alone in wanting to know. What I suggested is (roughly) as follows:

What’s your
poison?

A good place to start is to consider what you like to read,
on the basis that (a) this is the genre with which you are most familiar and
(b) you should at least write something you enjoy, the alternative being,
surely, madness. You might also, hopefully, have an idea of what else is on the
market, which is far simpler than charging at it blind and hoping you can
produce something commercial out of nothing (been there, got the rejections
slips…)

Start with a
plan, Stan.

Once you’ve decided on the genre, it helps to have a plan in
mind. Will it be plot-led (say, an action thriller or a torrid romance) or
character-led (a family saga, perhaps, or an individual’s journey through a
particular event in life – a right of passage, for example)? Is there a
particular age group you’re aiming at? Male or female? Adult or teens? Will it
be told in the first-person or third? How many main characters will you have?
What’s the location – real or made up? Contemporary or historical/future
setting? These are just some of the points to bear in mind, rather like
deciding the shape and style of a building before you start phoning round the
builders’ merchants.

What’s the
theme?

In other words, the main subject running through the story? Is it
one of revenge? Growing up? A journey of discovery? Hardships overcome? The
theme doesn’t need stating outright, but recognising it might help you nail the
core of the story.

Think about
the structure.

Ideally, every story needs a beginning, a middle and an end.
No doubt some modernists will go puce and mutter ‘phooey’ or some such
expletive to this outrageously dated suggestion, but most readers have
traditional tastes, and that’s who we write for, not the fadists. Knowing the
structure – even in a rough form – will help you work out the rise and fall of
your story, building from the introduction of your characters and setting, and
leading through the progression of events to the ending. Another function of
deciding the structure is to see if the story has ‘legs’ - in other words, do
you have enough of a story to write in the first place? And will it sustain a
reader’s interest over, say, 80,000 words? This also comes back to the
characters, because they will form an integral part of the structure. If they
are not engaging, the structure falls down and your readers might as well go
and read a sauce bottle.

Write a
synopsis.

Many writers avoid this like the plague, and only produce one on
the threat of having hot needles inserted under their fingernails. But someone
totally new to writing should find it a useful exercise. Bearing in mind what I
said about ‘legs’, if you can’t put enough of an idea together to write a
synopsis (a synthesised version of the story), then you’ll have hell’s own job
writing a complete one. Try writing your projected story on a single sheet of
paper, concentrating on hitting the main points, characters, events and the
ending. From there, you can look at expanding it, adding chapter headings and
outlines, secondary characters and scenes you feel are important to cover. In
this way, a framework will begin to take shape – and more ideas will flow as a
consequence.

Start writing.

Stating the bleedin’ obvious perhaps, but like walking, the best thing is to
take the first step. You could try writing a short story before you attempt a
novel, because then you won’t have expended too much effort to see if you can
do it. After that, it’s a question of scale. I have to say, I’ve done a lot of
both and find myself sweating rivets over short stories, whereas books give me
far more scope and room to work in.

Either way, only
when you’ve tried something will you know if you like it… and can actually do
it. Hopefully, it will be a bit like sex: if it’s good it will be great; if
it’s not good…well, it might still be a lot of fun.

TOP TIPS

·What do YOU like to read? What themes attract
you?

·What style of writing appeals to you?

·You have to feel that you could, at least, do
just as good. Better helps.

·Start with a plan. Get the ideas in your head
down on paper, then flesh them out.

Tuesday, 9 June 2015

This month's article in WritingMagazine is called Do Look Back, and deals with the knotty problem most writers face from time to time: that of knowing when to stop writing more of what you've got (when it probably isn't necessary), but instead, making sure there are no holes in the storyline behind you.

I liken it to planks in a jetty stretching out over a blue sea. It might be nice for it go out much further (as in, away from other people), but if there are any planks missing, the structure isn't safe or complete.

As if writers didn't have problems enough, we now have calls for the year 2018 to be "... a Year of Publishing Women. ... the basic premise (being)
precisely what it says on the tin: all new titles published in that year should
be written by women." (see

Now much of what Ms Shamsie says may be right - I don't know. If deliberate, it needs correcting. Although in an industry with a large number of women making the decisions, as agents, editors and publishers, maybe they're the ones to look to for the answer.

But in calling for this 'imbalance' to be addressed by excluding all male writers for a whole year, she is plainly unbothered by the idea of adjusting one bad situation by creating another... of demanding that men step down in their jobs while - presumably, if I read her right - allowing women to catch up.

Isn't this discrimination against male writers?

As a professional writer, the idea of downing keyboard for one year is unthinkable - and unrealistic. I make my living by writing, so what should I do instead - go stack shelves just so somebody else can feel good about a perceived unfairness?

All the authors I know, of both genders, have got there by working hard and being perceived by an agent or publisher as being good enough to be published. Other descriptions might include compelling, interesting, gripping, fresh, provocative, creative, thrilling... and a whole host of others.

But I wasn't aware that any of these adjectives were gender-based. Men and women alike, as far as I'm aware, stand the same chance of being published... or not.

So, no apologies, but I won't be downing tools for the year 2018. Nor, I suspect, will many other male writers.

THE WATCHMAN

ROCCO AND THE SNOW ANGEL

DEATH AT THE CLOS DU LAC

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About Me

I'm the author of 21 spy and crime thrillers, a YA paranormal novel, a crime/adventure cross-over and 2 short fiction anthologies. I also write book reviews for SHOTS Magazine and the 'Beginners' column for WRITING Magazine, and from that have completed a non-fiction book - 'Write On! - The Writer's Help Book'.
Represented by David Headley of the DHH Literary Agency, London - http://www.dhhliteraryagency.com